


Criteria

by gardnerhill



Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Community: watsons_woes, Crack, Gen, Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 22:55:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11390127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gardnerhill/pseuds/gardnerhill
Summary: Stamford really needs to get glasses.





	Criteria

**Author's Note:**

> For the 2017 July Watson's Woes Promptfest prompt #3, **Overheard.** Eavesdropping and its possible consequences (be it misunderstandings, hurt and anger, something awkward taken totally out of context, whatever).

The Bart’s dresser had just received his pint and had turned to look for a place to sit when he heard a man muttering to himself at a nearby table.

“…come home from combat in the Subcontinent and I’m ignored like I was riff-raff?”

Wait. Hadn’t old Watson said something about being deployed to India and points beyond?

Stamford looked at the man at the table. My God, war changed a man – Watson was hardly recognisable. He looked like he hadn’t a friend in the world. Poor chap.

He strode over, bonhomie filling his soul. “My dear old chap, you’ve made it home! Looks like India really laid its brand on you.”

The man started up and looked at Stamford. “Yes. Yes it did…”

“Stamford!” He beamed. “Your old dresser at Bart’s! It has been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Stamford. Yes. Yes, Stamford!” The man smiled and held out his own hand. He had new calluses on his palms – from holding his gun, most likely. “Just deciding what to do now that I’m back in London.”

Stamford thought of the young chemist who’d shared his plaint that very morning. “Do you need a place to stay? There’s a chap I know looking for someone to go halves on some rooms. Queer duck, but if you stay out of each other’s ways you just might get on.”

The returned soldier smiled – a hard-edged smile, someone who’d clearly been toughened by combat. “That just might suit me, Stamford. I do need digs and I’m practically nocturnal these days. I’m sure I’ll have no trouble with this fellow.”

Stamford laughed. “Oh, you don’t know Sherlock Holmes yet. Don’t come running to me if you two don’t get along!”

The man’s eyes widened and his whole body jolted. “Sh… Sharing rooms right now is more attractive than worrying about my new flatmate. I’d be happy to see this fellow.”

“Splendid,” Stamford said, benevolence filling him at having taken care of two colleagues at the same time. “Let me just pay for this and I’ll take you to see him.”

When the dresser was away, the man fumbled in his pockets for a pencil, and a yellow form. With the practise of his long career, he kept the smile off his face as he scratched a message and signaled to a page-boy:

PROFESSOR HAVE LOCATED HOLMES STOP ASSIGNMENT COMPLETE BEFORE EVENING FULL STOP S MORAN


End file.
